The Wheel in the Sky Keeps on Turning (Open)

[Ravenfire]

The droid was going down it cut through the support beams "Karking droid" Rex then used force speed to get to where skosk was and use force shield to protect them both, drawing from the datrai crystal in his lightsabre to last. By the time the rubble stopped him and [member="Skosk Fett"] were fine, but he was worn out trying to protect them.

"Over here [member="Karsan Calnov"]," He would croak out "Me and Skosk are over here. I save us from the brunt of the attack, but it is gonna take me some time to recover. You guys should be fine without me." His eyes would then roll into the back of his head as he fell backwards onto the rubble. He was still in his armour so he took no real damage. but if anyone checked he would be out cold.

 

[Popo]

Location: Hangar Bay Hub A connecting to Bays 1-4
Allies: [member="Entye Shysa"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Arabella Darkhold"] [member="Zesiro"] [member="Naast'ika Laaran"] [member="Anya Malvern"] [member="Simone"]
Enemies: [member="Gorba the Hutt"] [member="Smeg"] [member="Nadir"] [member="Coratanni Cartel"] [member="Sal Katarn"] [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
(If I missed you, you're either a 3rd party that isn't on my radar yet or I legit missed/misplaced you on the list)


The data feeds kept coming and as they flowed his annoyance grew. There were always young upstarts in the galaxy, those who sought to carve a path of wealth and glory for themselves. They clawed at power, never knowing it was like grabbing at smoke in the dark. If they were lucky, they figured it out. If they weren't, they found themselves the wrong side of someone who did. For the most part, they clung to the embers of those who understood power and were content in the darkness. Popo's light may not shine brightly in the night, but it was vast and ran deep like a forest fire under a new moon. A silent, sleeping giant content to be left to its own devices. Something even the most powerful in the galaxy understood that it was better to let well enough alone rather than risk something so fickle as victory in a realm of shadows.

There was a reason most told of the end times engulfed in flames.

He rerouted power and shut down nodes as an afterthought. The Herglics that had escaped found that the brakes engaged once more, the cars locomotion robbed entirely as air pressure was suddenly lost within the tubes all across the station. To add insult to injury, Popo severed power from the cars themselves. If they wanted to go to his office, they'd have to walk like everyone else where his troops and mercenaries could deal with them properly.

He managed to focus back on the situation at hand as a pressurization notification came across his vision. Thankfully, he was used to his helmet as were the two Hutts and the men around them. The thing with building on top of the standard Mandalorian helmet design was that you had a complete view of everything around you in a three hundred sixty degree arc. A lone gunman on a locked down hangar hub drew attention even before he pulled a disruptor and promptly missed the two Hutt warriors. Popo didn't bother reacting even as he heard the distinctive report of the high powered weapon. It was designed to go through heavy armor, but most armor types weren't made of a solid inch of beskar plating. He had nothing to fear from such a weapon, at least not now. Not initially.

"Paradise seems to enjoy company, it seems," the massive shell Hutt rumbled as more data poured in. "We're as safe here as we would be anywhere. I hope you brought something to fight with. If not, I might have something I can spare."

The odds were far from even. Surrounded from without and beset from within, Popo knew that only one card in the deck could make this a fair fight and not one borne of desperation.

His attackers would need more men.

His chivalry would wear thin and, once it did, he'd untie the metaphorical arm behind his back and show them who, precisely, they were angering.

 

[Sal Katarn]

Hangar Bay Hub A
Enemy: [member="Popo"]

The air started to depressurize and Sal made good and sure to pull up the hood of the thin suit he wore beneath his clothes. He slipped out the mask from a pocket and slid it into place. It sealed with a hiss.

He'd be fine for now, but those Kajidic fellas better finish their job or else he'd be a dead man inside of ten minutes.

The more immediate problem was that he had missed the heads of the two massive Shell hutts sitting on either side of the bigger one. That sort of thing tended to happen in all the excitement.

Good news was that if he did land a shot, their armor would not stop it. Didn't much matter if it was phrik or songsteel, or some metal Katarn had never heard of. Disruptors pulled things apart at a molecular level. And while his pistols couldn't disintegrate a fellow, they concentrated all of that atomizing power into putting thumb-sized holes through basically anything.

A few folk he'd encountered hadn't believed him on that. They hadn't read the Vanir instruction manual.

They were dead now.

Sal popped around the corner of the hall, back into the bay, and fired off a quick trio of shots toward the gathered Hutts. Being roughly the size of speeders, hitting' them shouldn't be much harder than hittin' the broadside of the barn back on Sulon.

 

[Azimuth Industries]

Master-Com Systems

​

Pauul was pointing his silenced pistol at the rodents now, aim switching between Smeg and... the other one. Plod? But not the one with the drool at the corner of his mouth. He didn't seem all there. LeFrange and Zatax glanced nervously at each other.

Meanwhile Jiimi was over by the data terminal slowly losing his patience.

"Shh."

The rodents kept screaming at each other.

"SHH."

Still screaming.

"SHUT THE KARK UP YOU SKOOCHA-KUNG SLEEMO MOTHER KA- oh."

LeFrange whirled around, staring at Jiimi excitedly. "Is it?"

Jiimi looked up and gave him a nod. "Yeah. Virus is uploaded. Master-Com should be shutting down any second now. Then we can upload the Helix AI."

When the Master-Com shut down, it would mean all the outer defense systems should go offline, giving the pirate fleet orbiting the station a bit of a breather. That was the idea anyhow.

[member="Popo"] | [member="Smeg"]

 

[Simone]

Simone visibly flinched at another shot that came too close for her liking.

"I didn't bank on finding trouble." she grumbled in complaint, shuffling to place an armoured hutt between herself and the lone gunman, her eyes cast over her shoulder looking for somewhere she could retreat to.

"I tend not to fight things head on, unless there is no other option." she sighed "You'll have to give me something."

She leaned slightly to her left to peer round her live shield to spot the gunman.

"And pay me." she added.

[member="Popo"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Hanger Bay A
Enemy: [member="Popo"]
Allies: [member="Sal Katarn"]

The edge of the system grew distorted by the gravity of a vessel none could see, its sensor dampening closing shut the eyes of any would be purveyors. Its slow churn through the abyss was betrayed by nothing more than the AI inside humming to itself, quietly sending millions of piece of data between the internal systems. Weapons lining the front of the vessel were orientated long out of range of the space station itself, enough that a few barrages could easily put the nails in the coffin for the massive space station; three kilometers of death ensuring there would be no victor.

Eight massive hellbore cannons from a bygone age matched by twenty anti-personel hypervelocity cannons and the crowning achievement of a singular proton beam cannon. Each spooled, charged, and pulled on their proverbial chains for release, the anticipation forcing each of the weapons to slowly warm into operating temperatures with no notice but by its captain.

Internal droids ran between themselves and the very rear of the vessel kept up with its hustle and bustle with its massive nightclub full of too many drug filled fools to realize what it was the ship was doing. It wouldn’t matter for long regardless, as Cybele quietly awaited the message from her master; just a single note that said they were alright. She knew already that if he didn’t respond within the next few hours, the full aggression of The Technicolor Beat was to fire on the station.

Inside, The Slave quietly put on the last pieces of his armor, readjusting the skin suit before putting the phrik helmet on at last. It sealed before booting, offering various messages about the operating system before subsiding and leaving nothing more than the environmental information he required. He sighed as it finished, already running late for the party taking place outside. It’d been a very long time since he was hired for anything, and the thought of work seemed to sicken him ever so slightly.

Still, as he clipped his lightsaber to the utility belt and activated the cloaking systems, he began to move towards his goal. His entire presence, both in the force and in all view would vanish, leaving nothing. The cloaking was simply secondary, should he lose focus, but his primary defense was the simply fact that reality ignored him on his will alone, a walking ignorance, the quiet stride of death itself.

Door to door, hallway to hallway, The Slave seemed for once to ignore the various civilians and soldiers that sought to defend the station or cower from those who sought to take from this hutt his casinos; they were nothing important. Their morale, the reason they fought, they were lead by money; and there was always a limit to how much money someone would be willing to be paid to lose their life. The time they would resist was limited, whether they knew it or not.

Still, after a few minutes The Slave finally came to where he knew he needed to be. It stank of presences he would soon deal with, and despite the doors being on lockdown it would be little effort to simply bend them out of the way. Closing his eyes, he pressed either of his hands to the doors as energy built in his fingertips. He’d come along way since the days of fighting the pirate Thengil, and he’d become somewhat of a legend certain areas of the galaxy for his ability in the force.

He’d even conquered the darkstaff, with it every soul it had ever absorbed. It nearly cost him his life, but it was to be his crowning achievement.

Each door offered loud cries of resistance and pain as the metal bent and curdled while air rushed past him, leaving just enough room for The Slave to walk through. With systems still active, his focus came back to maintaining his invisibility in the senses of any there, step by step entering the hub with poor intentions. Coming into sight of the various hutts and their entourage, a vague sadness came over him.

Despite it all, despite all that was spent to get him there, this was to be what waited him?

Maneuvering between them, he’d look each one up and down before shaking his head. There was nothing impressive of them, their spines looked weak, their focus on heavy armor would leave them vulnerable, but their sense of confidence upset him the worst. Were they so confident in themselves?

Sighing, he quietly typed in the arming code for a baradium core detonator he held on his back, but did not throw it; waiting for one of them to do anything while he idly minded his own thoughts;

“They’re going to need more men.”

 

[Muad Dib]

A snarl was etched upon his face as the majority of his prey sought escape. A single car remained as [member="Anya Malvern"] began her ferocious attack. The snarl quickly flickered into a grin as he eyed his aliit, House Dib, in action. [member="Zesiro"] stood with her sister and his love, [member="Arabella Darkhold"], eyes had flickered to black which he well knew meant osik was about to hit the proverbial fan. A chuckle escaped him as he motioned to the singular target above them.

"All yours. Work together. Stronger together. I have a date with some runaways."

He flew across the deck, the force speeding his body as he followed in the wake of the fleeing forces of [member="Nadir"] . His body was a blur as the force filled him lending wings to his feet as he ate the distance between himself and his targets. They sought to continue on their way to their nefarious plot, yet the Mad Master had other plans in store for the whales he fully intended to beach upon a war front of his choosing.

A message blinked upon the HUD of his buy'ce and he spared a glance, a message from a vod he had yet to meet. [member="Karsan Calnov"] sent a short transmission. Grinning as he continued his run he sent a reply to the unknown mando'ad, yet despite that was still a vod.

"Oya ner vod! If you need an extra hand, remember me."

And then Karsan was forgotten as he closed on the fleeing transports. Flames flew through the air above encircling the transports at the same time the braking systems engaged bringing them to a halt. He heard the sounds of battle behind as the reject Shamu wannabes engaged his family. The platoon with their firing positions and the droids joined their salvo to the attack behind him and Muad had a moment of apprehension for his ad'ika and cyar'ika, yet he had faith in them. His attention was for what lay ahead.

The propulsion rockets in his armored boots activated and he soared upward toward the stopped, flaming transports. His lightsaber was pulled from the pouch of his kama, an azure blade igniting into existence. Landing upon the first transport he swiped the blade through the cables that held the transports suspended above the distant floor. With the cable severed the carriers swung down from the heavens, aimed for a tremendous impact for the ground below.

Riding the rapidly descending transport he pulled a thermal detonator from his kama and flicked it active, cooking the explosive til nary a second remained. Then he dropped it into a small portion of the roof that had melted from the heat of Any'ika's flames. The rockets activated and launched him up and backwards in a flip, deactivating as he landed in a crouch, his lightsaber held out to his side as the transports were only moments from collision. [member="Popo"] would get his armor, one way or another.

 

[Naast'ika Laaran]

[member="Popo"], [member="Nadir"],

The Besh Gorgon system had no planetary bodies, no asteroid belts, and no comets. The only two objects of note in the system were the Star and the massive space station that orbited it. Between the star and the station, a pod of Mesen'loras raced towards the latter. Around the station, scattered ships danced through the void. Most ships were busy trading shots with the station itself, moving erratically to avoid return fire from the much larger construct. Some of these ships instead traded shots with the handful of mercenary ships that had emerged from the enormous hulk. Through this mess of metal and wire Naast'ika glided happily, racing towards the biggest ship on his sensors as he dipped and dodged the missiles and lasers that traced through the void. In the distance, he felt the subtle change in the system's gravity as the pod of his cousins continued their race towards the station. To his senses, it was as if a small planet had bloomed to live in the void and was racing towards him. He knew that his cousins had collected their dovin basals into a single massive singularity and were collectively riding its impressive pull to move at great speeds towards the combat. They would need Naast'ika to tell them which ships to fight when they arrived. Otherwise they would just shoot at anything that wasn't biological. But for now, a happy chirp escaped Naast'ika as he deployed his weapons and prepared to fight the biggest hostile ship he had found.

"We need you to switch targets and go check out some abnormal energy readings." Echoed a voice in his head. Naast'ika beeped profane disappointment and annoyance back along the comm channel. "We're picking up some abnormal readings coming from this general area," The voice said as a nav beacon came to life in Naast'ika's perception of reality. "Which is odd, because the system should be empty. We're going over hyperspace navigation logs for the past few days just to be sure, but we don't need any more surprises today."

Naast'ika responded by sending a copy of his own sensor readings to the Wheel. Naast'ika might not know the specific details of the solar system or its history, but he knew the gravitational pull of a moon when he felt it. And, as far as Naast'ika was aware, that was what he had been feeling coming from that corner of the system. A small moon with unstable tectonics. Which he had assumed was a normal part of the solar system.

"Holy kark." Said the voice in Naast'ika's head. "That's an enormous gravitational reading. We'll try to get a more detailed scan of this area, but we need you checking this out ASAP."

A warble of unhappy beeps spewed from Naast'ika as he secured his weapons and banked away from the heavy cruiser ahead of him and towards the unknown contact at the edge of the system. Lights danced around Naast'ika's hull as the armored bioship gathered energy for a small hyperspace skip to the edge of the system. A mere moment and a blinding flash later, and Naast'ika found himself elsewhere in the void. But entirely not alone. Not horribly far away from him was a massive ship. One of the 'Star Destroyers' that the aruetii were so fond of building.

Naast'ika chirped in excitement as he saw the massive ship. It was almost four times the size of the last ship Naast'ika was going to fight! Happy beeps echoed through Naast'ika's hull as he banked towards the 3,000 meter long ship, fully intending to engage the massive thing. However... Naast'ika remembered that the little organics didn't like him to shoot every ship he encountered. Sometimes, they got quite mad when he blew up the lightly armored ones. Quickly, Naast'ika sent a rushed copy of his current sensor data to the Wheel... and received an urgent communication in return.

"I have no idea how long that ship's been there, but it damn well shouldn't." Said the man from the Wheel, his voice echoing through Naast'ika's head. "The boss says you can kill damn near anything... so, yeah. Give that thing a run for its money and keep it from engaging the station."

Naast'ika chirped very happily as he closed the comm channel and deployed his weapons once again.

[member="The Slave"],

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Technicolor Beat, despite all its size and beauty, held one flaw; but it wasn’t built into itself. The gravitational readings detected by The Wheel and this void based insect were not that of the massive vessel before them, as the GAM on it was operating at peak performance. Cybele double checked the systems as a quick safety precaution before letting the annoyance of a vessel begin its bank towards the massive ship. It was hard to detect, with minimal energy readings and more, but despite all of that there was a distinct burst upon its showing up on the various redundant sensors the ship held, though not all of them.

Cybele continued her humming as commands were sent out, and the ship began to orientate some of the heavy ion cannons on that side of the vessel to fire, though attempting to lock a target proved difficult. Very quickly, the onboard AI abandoned the lazy route and began to run a number of calculations for almost every predictive evasive route possible, with a decently small give or take ratio. Each cannon hummed wildly as power from the massive reactors began to spool their capacitors, yet only a few of those able to fire on the vessel actually decided to do so.

Perhaps six of the nearly hundred cannons available began to assault the quickly oncoming ship, some taking care to shoot in the spots already predicted mathematically that it would likely move off to. It’s may have been fast, but being over a hundred meters came with its downsides, being decently easy to target for the advanced AI was one of them it seemed. This was all that would happen despite that, and the ship continued to sit idle while it waited for a signal from The Slave, all weapons directly orientated towards the space station with no sign of moving or readjusting. It was a looming titan, and the prowler had its work cut out for it if it wanted to breech those shields.

[member="Naast'ika Laaran"]

 

[Skosk Fett]

[member="Rex Taff"] [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]

Location : Destroyed casino

Obejective:Regroup and make plans

Enemies: If your not with us then you are probably against us


Everything happened so quickly, the droid was defeated , but in a last ditch effort attempted to cause the entire structure to fall on the three mandalorians. Captain Rex saved the recovering beast of a being from certain death. His yellow eyes watched through his T-visor Buyce as the chiss bailed his sodding behind out. After the event Skosk responded to Karsen, "We are alright, but Rex is down. Saved my life, Im going to stay here until he recovers, we will catch up to you vod." . The brute pausing before speaking again, "Maintain contact via comms , OYA!" . His fist raising in the air violently before he himself started to rise to his feet.


The maniac reloaded his grenade launcher, sitting back and vigilant of any who would trying to rob Rex's knocked out body. While his massive, bulky, and athletic frame would scare most off, in numbers some may try their luck. The Fett had his beskad for this , should he need it.Hopefully, the team will be able to be more coordinated in the future, if they were gonna get that fething Hutt . The team would have to move quickly, and with more precision.

 

[Naast'ika Laaran]

Naast'ika watched a handful of the huge turrets slowly arc towards him and let loose a chuckling beep. Adjusting his course ever so slightly, Naast'ika optimized his approach, making a long, slow arc towards the ship in a non-direct path that would maximize his angular velocity and leave him eventually colliding with the ship's belly if he didn't eventually change his course. It was a tried and true technique to maximize the difficulty enemy turret gunners would have in targeting him. Not just in predicting his movements, but also lining up the heavy, slow moving turrets between shots.

As the first shot soared past Naast'ika, the small ship rolled and slid sideways in a manner that would have been impossible for a mechanical ship to mimic. The four small pinprick singularities of his Neuroengines continued to drag his body forward, no matter the direction he oriented his body. He drifted up and down, rolled side to side, twisted and shook, and yet still moved forward along his intended path, never slowing down. Even in spite of being entirely sideways at one point.

Naast'ika loved every minute of it and appreciated the lack of flak and support weaponry that would usually be hurled in his direction. The big guns on the Star Destroyer had been intimidating to Naast'ika when he had first encountered them many years ago, but were now familiar to Naast'ika and he had little fear of them. They only hit about as hard as a heavy ion cannon (which only really made him tingle and shorted out his non-organic parts), we're less accurate than their Turbolaser variant, and were slow as feth to turn and bring to bare. They were weapons designed to target star destroyers and dreadnoughts at extreme ranges. So Naast'ika chirped and sang on subspace frequencies as he continued to dance through the void indifferent to the occasional bolt of ionized plasma that was hurled in his general direction.

What did concern him though, was what came next. Already knowing how Star Destroyers like to deal with smaller ships, Naast'ika focused his sensors upon the hull of the massive ship and looked for movement. Sooner or later, once Naast'ika was close enough anyway, someone on the Star Destroyer would try to point a tractor beam at Naast'ika. By the time they did, though, Naast'ika would be ready.

In the meantime, as Naast'ika danced through the void in his race towards the massive ship, Naast'ika took a moment to take in the view of the opposing ship as only he could. With senses far stranger than sight, Naast'ika felt the tinge of the ship's metal upon a tongue that didn't exist. He sensed the flow of electricity through thousands of miles of cable, sensed the radiation of heat drift away from the ship and could detect where that heat was hottest. He heard the vibration of loose pipes and groaning metal, the low rumble of ion drives at minimal power, and the chorus of noise from the people who sang and danced within it. He felt the mass of the ship pull upon the fabric of reality and felt the bands of curving magnetism that surrounded the craft. More importantly, he felt the weight of the two massive objects that fought against their restraints within the ship. Naast'ika could feel their instability and power and knew why he had confused the ship for a small planet. Deep within the enormous ship, a pair of black holes roared in defiance against their capture.


[member="The Slave"]

OOC: Went back and re-reviewed your sub. A GAM used to block gravity based sensors (typically considered very advanced sensors) is a serious bit of stealth tech and deserves some mention in the strengths and weaknesses, as well as the description. You've omitted mentioning it or any similar capabilities anywhere and hid the component itself in with the sensor systems. I'd recommend editing the sub to add a "stealth systems" section and moving the GAM and Sensor Mask to that section, along with any other systems you feel helps your ship to hide. Additionally, I'd suggest specifically mentioning the GAM in the description and strengths/weaknesses for future clarity.

For now though... The ship has an entire room plated in the heaviest material in Star Wars and is hauling around two barely contained black holes in a system with no nearby celestial objects to hide by. Even with the GAM at full power, it would be trying to spread the ship's mass over such a wide area (in an area of space devoid of other mass shadows), that it's like wearing a ghillie suit while standing in the middle of a swimming pool. People might not be able to tell who's wearing the suit, but they can sure as heck see that something is standing in their swimming pool.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Cybele hummed contently, watching through numerous sensors as the vessel grew closer. The little insect had good battle premonition, as the moment he came within range numerous tractor beams had begun to ignite and move to latch onto the small ship, at least by comparison. Ones from every direction along the three kilometer base, enough to bypass whatever cloud one could likely produce would they attempt to do so. With it, even more turrets had turned their attention to the vessel with its presumed stillness. Although it was true that the gimbal mounts made for the heavy ion cannons were slower, they were still able to knock out any cybernetics aboard the mutated vessel. Shields would be hammered, electronics would be decimated and any bravery the creature had would be tested.

Even still, his focus on the main ship in site would be another problem in himself. As he rushed forward with tunnel vision, his form was littered with various null bursts from unknown sources, once again guided by the magnum opus of ship based combat AI, something rarely wrong in its infinite calculations; the one thing the over confident corvette had not expected. With all eyes forward, his attention stayed far from the two massive escorts that always accompanied The Technicolor Beat. With a few dozen shots all directed at once, each with very specialized fast tracks meant for far more agile ships, it was very unlikely he’d be able to do much beyond this point.

Behind the null bursts were various HELIX Missiles, the common response for any transgressor that threatened the mainstay of the small fleet. Each were highly advanced, and would make short work of the biological components and transparent weak points even if the beskar threatened to stop what was coming. Reaction time was minimal, and it seemed almost instantly the full defenses of the party boat had began to lay into it; shadow droids quickly following to intercept.


[member="Naast'ika Laaran"]

 

[Ember Rekali]

SPACE
ATTN: [member="Naast'ika Laaran"] [member="The Slave"] [member="Nadir"] [member="Popo"]

Seven red-hulled Skira battleships, eight hundred fifty metres apiece, exited hyperspace within long weapons range of the Wheel and its attackers. The lead ship, a scarred old thing, bore the IFF label CRS Like Hell. That ship issued an open transmission.

"My name is Ember Rekali," said Ember Rekali. "My clan and I would like to offer our services to the highest bidder, and our condolences to the second highest."

Advanced targeting sensors painted...everything. Long-range turbolasers and huge dorsal Vulcans made impressive swiveling motions but did not fire. Starfighter screens deployed happily.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Location:
Very Far Away
Space

The Gilded Dragonet

"Mighty Gorba, the Rekali fleet just emerged near the Wheel?"

"Mm?" Gorba woke from his nap, his one good eye blinking open and staring directly at the underling.

"They are offering their services to the highest bidder."

"Aaaah."

"Should I open a transmission, Great One?"

"Ateema."

The line opened and Gorba cleared his throat with a phlegmy cough. He would have to speak the hum-drum language of basic for this exchange. What a chore.

"H'chu apenkee, Ember Rekali, I am Gorba, Kajidii of the Bareesh Kajidic. Name your price and the Bareesh will match. Blastohs, moulee-rah, ​chik youngee, spice? Whatever you desire. My associates of the Coratanni Cartel and Point Nadir will join in on the offer, I am sure."

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Popo]

Location: Hangar Bay Hub A connecting to Bays 1-4
Allies: [member="Entye Shysa"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Arabella Darkhold"] [member="Zesiro"] [member="Naast'ika Laaran"] [member="Anya Malvern"] @Simone
Enemies: [member="Gorba the Hutt"] [member="Smeg"] [member="Nadir"] [member="Coratanni Cartel"] [member="Sal Katarn"] [member="Bareesh Kajidic"] [member="The Slave"]
Unknown: [member="Ember Rekali"]
(If I missed you, you're either a 3rd party that isn't on my radar yet or I legit missed/misplaced you on the list)


The big Hutt sighed in mild annoyance before flicking the offending thermal detonator away into one of the uninhabited hangars with his electrostaff. Yes, the Force did wonderful things. Yes, you could hide and mask oneself with it and do all sorts of unimaginable things utilizing its strength, both for good and ill. Unfortunately, when you showed up ripping holes in doorways, walls, and various other things with the subtlety of a rancor in a silverware scrapyard, stealth was the last thing you got. The one right before that was respect for ones abilities.

"Payment won't be a problem," Popo stated to his slicer companion as he pulled a pair of items out of one of the compartments on his armor. "There's a suit of armor in the hangar adjacent to us; the one I didn't toss that detonator into. That is your initial payment and we can alter it, for free, as soon as this is over. As for helping with this particular... event..."

The shell Hutt underhand tossed one of the two items to the Zeltron woman before tucking the remaining voidstone back into his armor. Hefting his electrostaff, he let the E-Web mounted on his shoulder zero in automatically on the offending newcomer. As the target lock chimed, he rolled his shoulders to loosen up muscle and sinew.

"We'll consider that a deposit on your services for now, if that's alright with you. The armor is a specialized variant, phrik specifically, so you'll be safer than safe inside, especially with that stone. Its programmed for you use, so just make sure you use the undersuit for maximum efficiency."

As he finished, the report of the E-Web on his shoulder broke what little quiet there was in the hangar hub. His brothers and his men were dealing with the lone gunman, which was fine. He could hear the disruptor going on periodically to his annoyance, but his brethren knew the dangers the weapon posed. He knew the make and model of the weapon and how well it penetrated even exotic metals like beskar or phrik, but there was a major flaw in the design. Or, rather, in the intent of the weapon. It was designed to take down humanoid targets with humanoid levels of armor. Popo was, at least in the initial firefight, safe from the weapon. His armor was an inch thick and hardened beskar meaning it would take repeated hits in the same spot to penetrate his iron hide. Then there was the usual Hutt slime and fat beneath. It would hurt, but if the gunman was a professional, he knew that it would take more than a few attempted headshots to bring him, and to a lesser extent his clanhutts, down so easily.

Which brought him to the new message flickering over the comms. The Rekali clan was here. He knew them, or at least of them. Met a few of their people and probably had done business on the fringes of his recollection with the clan, at least on an individual sales basis. But that didn't matter. They wanted to fight, but they wanted payment. A bid for their services. Popo could bid with the best of them and keep up even with some of the ultrawealthy in the galaxy, but today was not the day for a bid. He'd not try to keep things cheap as that would only drag on and he knew enough of the Rekalis to know they only valued cold, hard credits to a limited extent. Eyes flicked over the appropriate comms and opened up a line with the fleet.

"Your reputation proceeds you. For your help, I am willing to part with the Bane Holocron, the holocron of Asli Krimsan, a full copy of all data on the Tenloss-Incom Compressium Armor project... and, should you wish, ownership of a prime location for a casino, though for that we can hash out basic things like rent at a later time."

They suddenly had more men and material. Suddenly, they felt they were a threat once more.

Unfortunately, they still vastly underestimated him and the more they did so, the more glaring their misplaced confidence became. If there was one thing to anger the massive Hutt Lord, it was overconfidence.

Popo's patience was wearing thinner by the minute.

 

[Coratanni Cartel]

Space - Hall Southern Wheel
Allies: [member="Hircine"] | [member="Gorba the Hutt"]
Enemies: [member="Popo"]
Ciruk Thawne

The massive Irrukine didn't necessarily have the mental capacity to support Gorba's bid for Ember Rekali's hand, though the Hutt was likely correct in assuming Coratanni would pitch in for the price of the Mandalorian Warlord.

In Ciruk's case however, he was just happy to be killing.

In his wake the four armed canine had left a trail of blood and bodies, not discriminating between the myriad of civilians that made their home on The Wheel and the security forces that had been thrown his way. The band of thirteen had steadily cut a swath through whatever they had encountered, always using their personal cloaks to slip in and out of vision, always popping up at exactly the right place to ambush whatever prey they stumbled upon.

Their tactics were neither subtle nor distinct, they were butchers and nothing less. While Nadir and Bareesh had their objectives, Ciruk was simply here to enjoy himself. The Cartel could have sent someone with more...sense, but Gorba's little plans were tiresome at times, and Ciruk seemed the best option to shut the slug up for a little while.

"No! Please! I ha-"​

​

The womans voice cut off as Ciruk bit into her throat, munching down for a few moments as he chewed and swallowed. After a few seconds he dropped the now limp body, uninterested in continuing his meal. Slowly he turned, regarding the Executioners who were arrayed behind him. A frown touched his lips, and then slowly he rolled his shoulders in a soft shrug. None of them responded of course, they were used to his more...primitive tendencies. A few of them even smiled behind their masks.

"Continue." The Irrukine barked out, sending the Executioners back out into their swaths.

The Wheel had more people to kill after all.

 

[Arken Lussk]

Bottom's Up
Allies: [member="Bareesh Kajidic"] | [member="The Slave"]
Foes: [member="Popo"] | Inherent idiocy

"D'aw, you're adorable," Arken cooed, further nestling the little bot in his lap. Even though he'd been the designer of the entire line, their cute and rounded frames never ceased to amaze him.

The two bottles of Halmad Prime in his system didn't help the droid's situation either.

"I think he's distressed," Victor reported, "I don't believe he was programmed to respond well to affection. Uh, I don't think I was either."

An incredulous look washed over Arken's face. "How could I have missed something so vital?! I mean, do you guys get angry or disappointed?"

Victor lounged back into the cushioned seat with a shrug of his shoulders. Data incomplete, it seemed. The slicer bot still lovingly held against his abdomen warbled something that sounded like binary.

"I think he's angry. He said something about being able to prove you're a terrible father - mathematically."

The young man dropped his heat against the headrest. "Ouch. We'll, I figure it's about time to let you spread your own wings and fly. Go and make, uh, your dad proud or something like that. But be back in an hour, we're leaving. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

Seeming quite content with the resolution of his predicament, the bot chirped something in cherry reply before hovering away. His new name was Jeremy and nothing in this great galaxy could stop him from doing what he did best: making dad proud. With that in mind, Jeremy ventured out of the neon-lit nightclub to scour The Wheel for anything that seemed valuable. Possibly a fund transfer terminal? Or maybe a network storage area tucked away within the innards of the station?

"Do you think he'll come back?"

Arken snorted and turned to Victor, "Of course he will. He always does."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Allies: [member="Sal Katarn"]
Enemies: [member="Popo"]
Location: Hanger Hub Bay A

With annoyance filling his stomach, The Slave began to grit his teeth and tense his jaw. Although a creative genius, he often lacked the common sense or empathy to realize people might notice when you barge into a room full of people, especially when the noise made by said doors was somewhere between an X-Wing Crashing, and a Bar Fight on Nar Shaddaa; either direction easily giving away his direction. Although he wasn’t likely noticed due to concealment, it didn’t change the fact that he was simply perturbed that the enemy didn’t stand still at his explosive charge’s poor entrance.

To compensate, The Slave pulled from his back one of weapons he brought with him, something he made himself. Its elongated shape fell off the magnetic locking mechanism with ease, and fell in his hands with equal pleasure; aimed directly at the backs of one of the hutt's accompanying the massive Popo. They obviously hadn’t moved much despite the bomb offering at least an idea of what was to come, but as the Hutt took misplaced confidence in the fact he walked with inch thick beskar, nearly fifteen shots of anti-vehicle disruptor moved to meet of the other hutts that guarded him.

“One.”

With the attention it would likely grab, he knew he’d have to move; and move he did. Sliding towards the flank of the other guard, keeping a few meter distance between them; he’d remain still for the next chance to strike; likely in the next few seconds should his weapon allow it. All that was biding his time was the cooldown required to not damage the weapon; all the while an anger filled grin fell beneath his helmet.

More importantly, where was Arken when he needed him? Bragging was going to be a lot harder if he doesn’t have anyone but a mangy bounty hunter to back up his story after this.

 

[Ember Rekali]

SPACE
CRS LIKE HELL - BRIDGE

[member="Popo"] [member="Gorba the Hutt"]

"Gentlemen," said Ember, still on an open channel, "you both make handsome offers. Tenloss has put a substantial bid on the table: the Bane and Krimsan holocrons, compressium armor research data, and ownership of a casino location, details to be finalized." He sat back in the command chair and interlaced his fingers over his stomach. "Along with, I'm sure, all relevant expenses for this visit. Would the Bareesh Kajidic and its partners care to match the bid?"

 

[Long Gone]

Nar Shaddaa Slums ​

​

7 Months Ago ​

Mira Rekali was once a a Jedi Master who followed in the footsteps of her mother, walking the path of the light. She was also a proud Mandalorian warrior, much like her father – until they betrayed her and took away the very thing that made her special. During the Civil War that rocked the Mandalorian society, Mira had taken the side of the "rebels" and fought along side Mia Monroe, and others. In the end, they had lost and many had died including Mia, unfortunately Mira had survived and was given a choice by the new leaders of Mandalore – renounce the Force or have it stripped from your very body. Mira refused and fought until her last waking moment, but like the war, she lost. As it were, some things weren't meant to come to pass, including the Mandalorian "cure" for the Force and an attempt to sweep away the dark transgressions by the Mandalorian Empire was made by officials within the upper ranks and Mira eventually became apart of a history that supposedly never occurred. However, Mira was one of the individuals who didn't get her life fixed, she was instead thrown out into the Galaxy – on the planet of Nar Shaddaa with no recollection of who she was or what had happened to her.

With no memory, no credits and nothing but a sensation of survival – Mira pressed on in the streets of Nar Shaddaa, fighting day by day.

Days would turn into weeks, weeks into months and months into a proverbial eternity. Mira was lost in her own mind, wandering the streets of Nar Shaddaa – surviving whatever way she found possible without sinking into the destitution of selling herself or resorting to drugs. A day came where the Galaxy seemed to smile upon the young Rekali – a group of thugs were unloading a crate of weapons when they dropped a sack of credit chits. Now, Mira being a concerned citizen as it were, took it upon herself to get the credits off the filthy ground before they became too contaminated for use – however, she was caught by a Weequay who happened to notice a satchel missing. The moments after were nothing more than a haze, not only for her her but for them as well. She recalled shouting, blood curling screams and violence. The echoing of bones snapping in her ears, foreign language and the warmth of blood that was not of her own. Memories distant controlled her actions and guided her hands to defend against their onslaught, brutality was her response – lacking sympathy for their pleas as she knocked them into unconsciousness, some into death.

She snapped back to reality upon hearing a laughter that sounded as if it could fill a Corellian heavy freighter, and flabby, wet fingers snapping together with a loud "POP". Crimson eyes blinked rapidly, turning to face a variety of weaponry, aimed down the alleyway at her person – a large, grotesque figure looming behind the arsenal. The figure spoke, but only briefly that she could remember, in Huttese. "You get to live today little one." And another snap of those fingers, and the sound of a stun shot, then darkness.

The Wheel ​

​

Present Day ​

Mira chewed on the rolled t'bac leaf, savoring the spicy honey flavor that dripped from the drenched plant in her mouth. She let off a rough sigh, gazing about the corridor as she tapped her foot impatiently. "I wonder how long they will make me wait..." It was a curious thing, what she was doing. She was getting paid to sit around, smoke and drink to her hearts content. Sure, she was supposed to guard the central hub but she doubted anyone would make it this far. "And if they do, I'll just offer them a drink for making it to the final stage..." She pulled the blunt from her mouth and set it down before lifting a bottle from the ground and toasting to the empty corridor. "And then beat them into oblivion." She would give no one, literally, a wink before taking a swig of the dark liquid – now waiting for her prey to come to her.

[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Muad Dib"]